


A Poison All the Same

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Flower Crowns, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language of Flowers, M/M, Self-Hatred, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:15:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15688032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Kokichi waits too much. Kokichi doesn't wait enough.





	A Poison All the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Vent Writing.

Yellow petals make strange snapping sounds as Kokichi plucks them. The flower itself, a dandelion one moment and a sunflower or daffodil another, never runs out of flutteringly nondescript fodder. It sways and gets tugged by pale fingers without a hint of protest. Like the rest of the meadow, the flower remains sweet smelling in a subtle and comfortable way. It's steady. Kokichi at least thinks it must be in a way. 

Kokichi's left hand starts trembling like the right. 

He blinks and looks down at the pile of petals. For a moment, he pretends that the sky is darker and cloudier than it is. Kokichi blinks again and sets his flower down. Dead leaves crinkle beneath it. 

Yellow and golden flower petals feel almost wet at Kokichi's fingers rip them open with hollow minded determination. They should let out a smell marked with pheromones of distress or impending death. Yet, the petals merely roll up into not soggy wads of plant tissue. All at his whims while the boy listens to trees rustle. 

It's not how you take care of a flower once you pick it. This isn't even how you play games with picked flowers. 

Gross drops of flower get dropped onto the ground, and Kokichi slowly turns to look at other flowers. He tries to ignore the one next to him despite the usual allure to it. Maybe it's some kind of carnation with a different color and Kokichi is just punched blind. 

Soft footsteps and the bang of plastic cage to pants join the sounds of nature. Kokichi keeps his eyes away from the figure emerging from treeline surrounding his meadow. 

Ignoring Gonta is hard though. Kokichi would refuse to say it straightforwardly, but he doesn't want to. So he reaches over for his flower and grabs it close. There's a split second where his hand doesn't find it right away. Kokichi clenches his fist down on the blossoming thing and swallows back something like grief. 

“Ouma-kun! Hello Ouma-kun,” Gonta calls out to him. “Gonta has found the camera you told him of!”

Kokichi glares up over at the other boy and immediately stops. Purple eyes get aimed down at the foliage covered ground instead. At least the tiny thumbs up that Gonta gets seems to be worth enough. Kokichi himself starts picking more flowers. 

That's what they've decided to do today after all. Make flower crowns. No wires, no anything but hard labor. 

For Miu. 

Gonta's fingers are a little bit too huge to pick each type of flower right away. Kokichi has to stop him and painstakingly show the nervous boy how to do it. But Gonta is determined. Gonta is smart and he learns quickly, talking about which flower or flowering herb is best for different bugs. Purple eyes focus on picking unimportant flowers with one hand, Kokichi not speaking a word, favoring the simple act if letting Gonta speak. 

He should have done that more while he still could. 

Things would probably be very different. 

Things would end up exactly the same. 

Everyone kept saying things like it's nobody's fault, it's just how things happen, but Kokichi thinks that to be a lie. 

Gonta finishes picking his allotted amount of flowers, and Kokichi flinches when a large hand ends his mutilation of a forget-me-not. 

A cough, wet even though it shouldn't be now, “Gonta thinks you said that many of these have bad meanings? Could Ouma-kun tell Gonta which to not use?”

Kokichi glances somewhere in his companion’s direction and wants to explain for real. But his eyes trail back to yellow gold and he stays silent. His shaking right hand throws certain flowers back towards decimated stems. Like that, they throw out all the flowers that don't make the cut. 

Words keep being said and Kokichi wishes that Gonta could make the shaking stop. The shaking shouldn't even be happening, but Kokichi presses the nameless yellow rotting husk of a flower to his chest even though he knows how poisonous that is. There isn't a way to make it stop with anyone else watching. 

Tan fingers are forced to take over braiding the flower crowns half way through. Gonta doesn't mention it. 

Bright and cheery, the flower crowns are amateur tier and poorly made. Petals are removed in gaps. The stems are cracked open. Kokichi squeezes his own crown and lets the wilting thing lay on his lap. The flower in his other hand is heavy and Kokichi refuses the urge to choke it down. 

Kokichi doesn't react when Gonta takes hold of him in some attempt at comfort. He's fine. He's always fine. 

But Gonta is warm and Kokichi can't lie that he's fine at all. It's a sudden and foregone conclusion, because of course none if them are fine, and Kokichi just feels selfish in that way that he always is. He always has been. Even if Gonta keeps holding onto him like this. Some paltry too easily given forgiveness can't fix anything. It doesn't make it better. Gonta doesn't make it better. 

Kokichi can't make Gonta better. 

One large hand sneaks close to the yellow flower that Kokichi clings to. The boy and all his small body small boned not made or born right weakness slips away, a heavy smile on his face. He smiles rightly faker up at Gonta and doesn't call out the trick for what it isn't. They stand up in a kind of quiet that shouldn't be comfortable. 

He'll feel better if the comfort turns out to be a lie to cover up how much the other boy resents him. 

It isn't a lie though. No one can lie anymore. There isn't a reason to. There isn't the ability to. 

Leaves rustle violently and sticks get snapped with growls of frustration being roared into the air. No birds burst into flight. Still, Kokichi ever so slightly walks behind Gonta's obscuring body and starts gathering up their many flower crowns. He has only a split second to pull this off. 

“Alright, why did everyone make me come get you dorks?” Miu loudly grunts into the expanse of Kokichi's meadow. 

Kokichi hears her footsteps get closer. He wonders why he's bothering. 

Gonta laughs sheepishly, “Ouma-kun said that we should make special presents for everyone!”

Miu pauses, audible ‘oh’ lingering in Kokichi's ears, and then she finishes her trip over more sullen. Her boots barely disturb the grass. Kokichi hears it anyway. 

“Ain't these places kind personal for us? I mea-”

The moment she gets too close to Gonta's body, Kokichi bursts out with a leap and arm full of dozens upon dozens of flower crowns. He throws them up into the air and watches the breeze fly them all over Miu's wide eyed figure. Her mouth games open just in time for some small purple hyacinth to drift in. 

She stares at them in shock and slowly registers that she's been covered in flower crowns. 

“What in the name of missionary position…” Miu murmurs. Her face slowly turns a subtle red, and her body jerks as if-

“I'm sorry.”

The sound is small and hoarse. It doesn't sound like anyone that Kokichi knows of. 

Kokichi snaps his jaw shut and takes the camera out of Gonta’s hands. He can't say that he grabbed or snatched the little cheapo thing, because Gonta holds it out to him with a small smile. Still, Kokichi's other hand is occupied. 

Tossing the camera over to Miu is funny. She scrambles to not drop the thing and also preserve her flowers. 

Lips twitching, Kokichi puts his hands behind his back and tries not to feel unsafe. He takes part in pictures, he even poses, he clings to Gonta when Miu starts going mad with power. Kokichi even gets coaxed into take pictures of his own. 

It's sweet. 

“Hey, Gonta thinks we might be late to the welcome party!”

It's… 

“Oh fuck yeah fuck, shit sorry, let's go you airheads!”

Kokichi looks down at the camera in his hands and looks at the empty gallery full of nothing. His jaw aches. 

Kokichi smiles shyly up at his best friends and carries arms full of flower crowns with the intent of gluing some to Kaito's head once he shows up. The seizures from poison still echo down his arms.

Kokichi falls to his knees in a meadow full of dead flowers, wraps a jacket that isn't his around his shoulders, and plucks familiar colored petals. Alone. Alone. Why did he ever entertain the idea that he could get anything right? 

No one is coming. 

Kokichi wishes he could be dead. 

He already is.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think it worked.


End file.
